


The Roadie And The Rockstar

by happycemetery



Series: Tynkerbell AU (Frank Iero/Synyster Gates) [3]
Category: Avenged Sevenfold, My Chemical Romance, frnkiero andthe cellabration
Genre: Brankie, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:29:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happycemetery/pseuds/happycemetery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero is the roadie. Synyster Gates is the rockstar. And their lives are all tangled up in love and sex and hilarity.</p><p>This is a series of Frank Iero/Synyster Gates one-shots, taking place in the aftermath of my fic "Tynkerbell" where Frank is a roadie for A7X. Read that story first if you'd like to know their backstory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Synyster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut/Humor/Fluff: Here Frank has a surprise to show Brian while Avenged Sevenfold is out on tour.

It was one of those rare days on tour where everything was going right, the crew and the venue staff miraculously on the same page and everything running smoothly in preparation for the show that night. There was no hectic rush, and the relaxed atmosphere left the stage setup happening at a lazy pace. A lot of people were lollygagging around, taking full advantage of an easy day; Frank included. Work on Brian's pedalboard was abandoned, and instead Frank was side stage immersed in conversation with Johnny.  
  
"How has he not seen it yet?" Johnny questioned Frank with a laugh and a shake of his head. "It's been three days."  
  
Frank shrugged innocently from where he was perched atop the drum kit case.  "What? We've all been busy, and I've been tired these past few nights."  
  
"Or you're scared shitless he's gonna freak out," Johnny smirked knowingly.  
  
'Scared shitless' was a little overboard. Frank wasn't scared. He stood by his decision, even if maybe he had been sort of going out of his way to keep it hidden. But Frank didn't see that to be a huge deal. He was merely being an appropriate-leveled kind of nervous. And besides, he wanted the reveal to be special. Johnny could suck his ass. "I'm not scared."  
  
"Sure, dude," the sarcasm was strong. "Just show him. I'll tell you what I told you at the–"  
  
"Hey, there you are," Brian seemingly glided in out of nowhere, addressing this proclamation at Frank. His hand slipped over Frank's thigh lingering there for a second to deliver a squeeze.  His eyes moved back and forth from his boyfriend to Johnny, and Brian stayed straight faced as he unleashed the joint teasing, "Sorry, am I interrupting a Lollipop Guild meeting?"  
  
Frank and Johnny shared an unamused glance with each other before Johnny told Brian to "Fuck off," and Frank just went ahead and gave his boyfriend a swift light kick to his upper leg.  
  
"Ow," Brian still complained. "Rabid little munchkin," he muttered.  
  
"Be nice and I won't have to hurt you," Frank shrugged then dawned a sweet smile.  
  
"If I was nice all the time you'd be bored. And besides," Brian smirked, grabbing a fistful of Frank's shirt to yank him close enough for Brian to breathe hotly into his ear. "I was under the impression you like it when I'm mean." Brian made that low growl of his that never failed to make a tingle shoot straight between Frank's legs. Brian topped off his little show with a sharp bite to Frank's ear, and Frank couldn't help how his eyes slipped closed or the ragged gasp he made.  
  
"Alright..." Johnny drawled, giving a goodbye clap of his hand to Brian's shoulder, "time for me to get outta here before you bend him over the drum case. Good luck, Frankie." Johnny practically crackled as he made his way further backstage.  
  
"Stop doing that in front of people," Frank hissed to Brian as he sat back straight up. It wasn't just Johnny. A few crew members and staff were mulling around.  
  
"Then maybe you'd like to go somewhere more private," Brian wiggled his brows and had Frank by both wrists before the kid could respond one way or the other.  
  
Frank was pulled down from the case, a firm grip on one of his wrists still remaining as Brian used it to lead Frank away from the stage area.  
  
"Bri," Frank started to complain, though he let himself get pulled along, "I've got work to do. And don't you have some interview soon?"  
  
"Right, you looked _so busy_ ," Brian rolled his eyes. "I've got twenty minutes. Let's make 'em count, hm?"  
  
They came to a stop outside of a door and before Frank knew it he was being pushed inside. It was a bathroom, fairly small and clean. No stalls, just one toilet, a sink and mirror, and hand dryer. Brian locked the door behind them and then had Frank pushed against the wall in an instant. Frank was actually pretty on board with this. They hadn't had sex in a few days and it wasn't like this would be their first time fucking in a public restroom, and this one was a hell of a lot cleaner. Still Frank pushed Brian back a little. His demeanor turned nervous, and Brian easily caught on to it.  
  
"What's wrong, baby?" Brian practically cooed, moving close again and gripping Frank's already semi-hard cock through his black jeans. "It's not like we've never done this before."  
  
"No no, it's not that. I'd _really_ like to do this." It took a lot of will power to nudge Brian's hand way. "I just... Um, I think I should show you something first?"  
  
Frank bit his lip nervously. So in a public toilet wasn't exactly the 'special reveal' Frank had in mind, but he didn't want Brian's roaming hands to find it by accident.  This was something Frank got for himself and the love of his fucking life, and Frank needed to be the one to show him.  
  
Brian quirked a curious brow, silently telling Frank to go on.  
  
Frank was nervous, but in these impending seconds of knowing he was finally going to show Brian, Frank became a little giddy too. He easily slipped into RamblingFrank mode. "Okay, so don't be mad or freak out. I mean, I don't think you really will. But I guess you could be all like... I don't know.  I kinda think you might call me stupid maybe. I may have been a little hasty but I really really wanted to do this so just, um, be cool, yeah?"  
  
An amused grin painted itself across Brian's face, his hands going to rest at Frank's hips tightly. "Okay, what the fuck did you do?"  
  
"Well, you know how Johnny and I went to that tattoo parlor a few days ago," Frank began to explain. "Um well, I kinda got more done than the shit on my arm."  
  
Frank slowly pulled his shirt up and over his head. He balled the material up in his hands and bit at his lip nervously, watching Brian's face to see his reaction when the man saw the new tattoo addition. 'Synyster' was now inked over Frank's heart in a pleasing script below his 'Hope' and black flames tattoo that already resided there. Brian was silent and staring, clearly taken aback for a moment, but a smile slowly curled at his lips. With that smile Frank finally released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.  
  
"Well, holy shit." Brian slowly ran his fingers over the slightly raised and healing letters.  
  
"So, that means you like it?" Frank grinned. "I thought it was a little cooler to get than 'Brian', no offense."  
  
"Fuck... Yeah.  I fucking love it." Brian chuckled like he was overwhelmed by the surprise. "I can't help but think how the old me would probably get a restraining order if someone pulled this. But you've got me floored. How do you get away with shit like this?"  
  
"'Cause you loooove me," Frank sing-songed.  
  
"So help me, I do." Brian brought a hand up to hold at the side of Frank's face, "You're the only one I've _ever_ felt this way about. Period. I'm never gonna fuck this up."  
  
"You better not," Frank looked at him pointedly but still had a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Don't make me have to get this covered up. That's just embarrassing."  
  
Brian laughed. "That's nothing you'll ever have to worry about, pixie. I'm just... Fuck, my name's on you. You fucking _belong_ to me. That's so fucking hot."  Brian gazed at the tattoo again before just drinking in all of Frank's form. " _Mine_ ," he said in a low lustfully possessive tone, and that one word alone made the temperature of Frank's body spike.  
  
Brian moved his hand to run through Frank's hair, coming to grip it at the back to pull the shorter man in for a purposeful kiss. "We've got like less than fifteen minutes now," Brian murmured.  
  
"Then shut up and fuck me already," Frank shot back hotly.  
  
"You talk like that," Brian pinned him up against the wall, "and you're gonna get it real hard."  
  
"Promise?" Frank bit his lip in a show of coyness.  
  
Brian fucking growled. The clash of lips that happened next was carnal. Frank's shirt was forgotten and dropped to the floor. The red-blooded lust shooting between them buzzed with a fury like an electrical storm. Maybe it was because they hadn't gone at it in a few days. Because Brian was so turned on by the inked surprise. Because Frank _really_ had a thing about Brian taking him over. They were almost fighting. Tongues at war and the scuffling of feet with rough grips and pushing as they both sought for the upper hand of having the other against the wall.  
  
The trash can got knocked over. It's litter spilling on to the floor with no one giving a damn. It was a short-lived battle with Brian winning. And really in doing so, Frank won too.  The kid wasn't exactly up against the wall, but instead forced to be bent over at the sink. Frank gripped at the small counter edge as Brian took a fistful of his hair to jerk his head up to make him look in the mirror. Frank stared at his panting reflection.  He was this lip swollen disheveled mess that looked like he'd already been fucked.  And there was Brian behind him looking absolutely smug and with this animalistic hunger burning in his eyes.  
  
"You know what happens when you get all aggressive like that," Brian leaned over him, speaking lowly in Frank's ear. "Someone wants it really fucking rough.  Is that how you wanna play?"  
  
"Mm, come on, Syn." Frank's voice was low and needy.  
  
Frank certainly hadn't expected any fun like this to happen today before the show, but now that he was so close to getting it he was just a pure bundle of want and urgency. Brian worked down the younger man's pants for him, and Frank insides flipped with an even hotter anticipation as he heard Brian undoing his own belt buckle. The man straightened behind him and rubbed his hard unleashed cock against him. Their eyes stayed locked through their reflections in the mirror.  Frank's gaze had turned absolutely desperate and pleading.  
  
"Just fuck me." It was a begging breathy tone. "Please. I can fucking take it."  
  
"Shit," Brian said through a single chuckle. "You are such a little whore." He leaned over Frank again to speak heatedly in his boyfriend's ear. "I fucking love it. You get me so hot."  
  
That ear was bit, then the neck a little harder, followed by a little kiss on top of the mark he left before Brian straightened again. Frank heard the rip of a lube packet, and willed himself to relax. It was a blessing really, how Brian still traveled well prepared at all times. Frank may have liked it rough on occasion, but the aid of only spit was kind of a deal breaker for him.  Slick fingers soon rubbed over his entrance, and the need in Frank spiked. He knew they were on a time restraint. This needed to happen.  Now.  
  
"I'm good, I'm good. Come on, fuck me. Come on." Frank pressed urgently.  
  
"I'd say I've never heard you so eager for my cock before, but that would be a lie," Brian said smugly.  
  
He gave Frank a few more seconds of torture only rubbing against the outside of him. But then Frank felt him lined up, and the firm press of the tip made Frank squeeze his eyes closed.  He clenched his jaw and gripped at the sink counter tighter to help him bear through inevitable initial burning pain, especially when he was having Brian just go for it.  
  
"Keep going," Frank urged through gritted teeth.  
  
Frank knew Brian would be careful, his boyfriend always moved with caring attention at the start no matter how crazed they were to have each other.  Making Brian stop or slow down too much would only in turn slow down the easing of the pain and the build up of the pleasure.  Brian started moaning lowly, and Frank latched on to the sound. He focused on that sweet noise and on the firm grip Brian's strong hands on his hips, until it became okay to focus on that now very gratifying feel of that hot thick cock slowly filling him over and over. And he sure as hell let Brian know he reached that lovely turning point with a long chorus of small moans leaving his throat.  
  
It was on.  
  
Brian tightened the grip on Frank's waist; it was the only subtle warning the smaller man got to let him know things were about to get rougher. That first quicker, deeper thrust drew out a satisfying yell straight out of Frank's lungs. His head dipped down into the bowl of the sink, the cool touch of the porcelain clashing against the heated skin of his forehead. Frank couldn't bother to try to lift his head up, not when it seemed like it was a miracle that he was still standing. Brian's hard thrusts were unrelenting. A rough skin-slapping collision that was completely making Frank undone.  
  
Brian's low moans filled the small space, mixing with Frank's partially controlled ones. He wanted to stay quiet. Frank knew they had a little more leeway to be vocal than if they were in the bus bunk, but he was still somehow a little bit mindful that the bathroom door out to a hallway wasn't really the best place to completely let loose and be loud either. It was becoming increasing hard to stay quiet though; Brian knew just how to drive him crazy. The movements got rougher, more frenzied.  Frank kept his lips pressed firmly together at least sort of muting the moans built up inside him. But when Brian kept consistently hitting against that sweet spot inside him, Frank lost the battle. His mouth dropped open and out poured all that lovely noise clear as a bell, and it coming out inside the curvature of the sink bowl only seemed to amplify lusty sounds.  
  
"Ah, that's it, baby," Brian groaned pleasingly.  
  
Frank was being pushed closer and closer to the edge.  He couldn't help but wrench away a vice-like grip from the counter so he could touch himself to bring it on faster, but Brian pulled Frank's arm away.  
  
"You don't need it." The man torturously left Frank's cock untouched, but didn't let up with his hard deep pace. "I'm gonna make you come. Just all me."  
  
"Brian..." The start of a whiny moan left Frank's lips, but he wasn't sure exactly what he was begging for. He knew Brian could get the job done, but holy hell, Frank was just so close and so damn desperate for that release. It was amazing how often he thought Brian was going to drive him to the point of sex-related death.  
  
The small bathroom echoed with the harsh slap of bodies slamming together, of dueling moans, and soon of a breathy ragged cry shooting out of Frank's mouth. A more quiet airy moan followed from Brian a mere millisecond after.  They came together, both bodies tensing and contracting in that all-consuming fire spread through them.  
  
As they came down Brian placed a small kiss to the back of Frank's neck and then a few more down his spine, making the kid moan sweetly, before he pulled away. Frank clung to the counter top until he was sure his jelly-legs had regained enough of their use back to hold his weight. He finally moved to pull his head out of the sink only to hit the back of it on the underside of the faucet.  
  
"Ow! Fuck," he cursed before moving more carefully away, his laughter at himself mixing with Brian's as he rubbed the back of his head.  
  
"Alright!" The raised voice sounded from the other side of the door that Brian was leaning heavily against and fixing his pants up. Frank recognized it as Dan's, and he winced a little in dreaded realization knowing that someone definitely had heard them. "Quit whatever weird giggle-fuck is going on in there! I need you on stage, Iero!"  
  
"I'm coming!" Frank yelled back.  
  
"And when he finishes wiping up that come, he'll be right out!" Brian crassly added with a smirk.  
  
The two of them could hear Dan groan through the door, followed by his retreating footsteps. Frank shot his boyfriend a death glare at the perverted joke, to which Brian just shrugged back with mock innocence. Frank did rush to clean up and make himself presentable though, even opted to right the fallen trash bin out of a little guilt, but left the trash that had spilled out where it was. Frank only needed to get his shirt back on, and he made to take from Brian who had it bundled up in his hand. Brian quickly brought it behind his back with a sly smile before Frank could grab it.  
  
"Come on," Frank said, rolling his eyes. "We gotta go. You're gonna be late."  
  
Brian glanced down at his watch and shrugged. "I already am. What's another minute more?"  
  
Frank smiled as Brian moved closer and snaked his arms around him in a warm embrace. Frank happily hugged him back, burying his face into Brian's shoulder and breathing him in. Topping off a quick rough sex session with a loving tender moment made it perfect as far as Frank was concerned. Brian pulled away just enough to bring a hand between them, bringing his fingers under Frank's chin to tip his head up into a kiss.  Those fingers trailed down to Frank's chest as their lips moved slow and sweet, and when they found their target —the _Synyster_ tattoo— Brian traced over it lightly.  
  
He gave Frank's lip a gentle bite and growled playfully. " _Mine_."


	2. Sick as Syn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff/Humor: Here Frank cares for a sick Brian.

This wasn't happening. He was Synyster Gates for fuck sake. Practically immortal. He didn't get sick. He never got sick. (As long as alcohol induced retching didn't count.) And he had literally been fine five minutes ago. It had struck him so fast. Just a slight discomfort in his stomach at first. No big deal. But then it got worse all at once. Brian could feel his insides fucking churning. A slow roll of a meat grinder in his gut. An unpleasant woozy hot flash just dropping through his body head to toe. And then that unmistakable feeling in his throat.  
  
He had gripped the rim of the toilet so hard his knuckles went white. He had never thrown up so hard in his life. The muscles of his abdomen ached, his throat burned, and it felt like his stomach had possibly turned itself inside out. God, _it was happening_. Every gut-wrenching heave ended with a groan that could have rivaled the sounds a man getting slowly run through with a dull spear.  
  
At the very least with it happening with such fury, Brian was granted some mercy in his stomach emptying quickly. He held on to the toilet as he tried to catch his breath, his face still over the bowl until he was absolutely certain nothing else was going to make its way up. Brian swallowed down roughly, but finally felt safe enough to move. He flushed the toilet and watched what was mostly light blue mushy chunks swirl away out of sight.  
  
_What the fuck did I even eat that would make that shit blue?_  
  
Brian just let himself crumple down to the cold tiled floor then, partially curled up on his side. His bed wasn't really that far away with him being in the bedroom's connected bathroom, but all he wanted to do at the moment was just lay there on the floor until this stupid shit fucking up his body ran its course. Hopefully quickly. And hopefully the worse part was over. He was so hot and weak and achy. He moaned woefully, but was at least thankful he was alone so no one saw him looking so embarrassingly pathetic. But that bit of luck didn't last too long.  
  
"Hey, it's just me!" Frank's voice called out from somewhere inside their home. "I forgot my phone. I think I'm gonna stop by the store after I'm done today. Need anything?"  
  
Brian quietly groaned. Frank was suppose to be halfway to Johnny's place by now. Brian didn't want his boyfriend to see him like this. Sure, Frank had seen him a mess on a bathroom floor before, but this was different. This wasn't after a night of drinking. This was his health crumbling and his body wasting away. This was him weak and defeated. He was supposed to be the strong one. He didn't want Frank to worry. He couldn't let Frank see him like this.  
  
"Nah, I'm good!" Brian called out and winced at how frail his voice sounded. He hoped to god Frank didn't notice. He got to his feet so he could hurry his ass to bed. At least if Frank did come in to their bedroom, being found sick in bed would be far better than being found a feeble wuss on the bathroom floor.  
  
So yes, getting up and dashing off to bed had been the intention, but it didn't exactly go as planned. Brian did successfully get to his feet, but it was that whole rushing to bed part that didn't pan out. Suddenly standing up proved to be a mistake. Dizziness swept over him, and he very swiftly found himself back on the bathroom floor.  
  
"Alright! You okay?" Frank's concerned shout made Brian unnecessarily panic.  
  
"I'm fine!" his sore throat pathetically called.  
  
Brian knew Frank wouldn't believe that, and it would be mere seconds until the young man made his way in. Brian cursed this stupid fucking sickness. Cursed its claws that were deeply sunk in to him. But he still had a flicker of a fight left. It appeared being upright wasn't an option Brian had at the moment, but he was going to make it to that bed dammit! He started to crawl. Not that very dignified of a travel method, but more respectable than laying next to a toilet. He made it clear through the bathroom doorway onto the wonderfully plush carpeted bedroom floor. His head stayed hung low to keep the dizziness at bay, and he pushed through how absolutely weak and tired he truly felt, forcing his heavy limbs to move. Brian was just a mere three feet from the bed, but so help him he just couldn't move anymore.  
  
"Fuck," he muttered before giving in and just letting himself lower to the floor. And there he was belly down and face miserably mushed into the carpet when he heard Frank's voice unmistakably from within the room now.  
  
"Are you sure? You sound like- Brian?" It ended in less of a worried tone and more of a confused one. "Why are you on the floor? You okay?"  
  
Brian dishearteningly sighed into the carpet fibers; there was no hiding how fucked up he was from Frank now. He kept his prone position on the floor, but turned his head so Frank could see his face.  
  
"Wow. What the fuck happened to you? You look like shit." Frank's opening words weren't particularly what you would call 'loving boyfriend', but he did rush over to Brian's side. "You okay?" he asked again, the concern now definitely heard in his voice as he knelt beside the laid out man.  
  
"I'm cool," Brian wasn't even sure what he was doing trying to play this off, but try he did. "Just...resting."  
  
Frank cocked an 'I'm not buying that for a second' brow. "Resting, huh? On the floor? When we've got a bed right there? Aaand I'm kinda picking up the faint scent of puke."  
  
"Alright fine," Brian groaned. "After you left I got sick as fuck. Like almost Exorcist level vomiting here. I was a pathetic mess on the bathroom floor and I tried to get to bed before you could see me like this but, fuck, I didn't even have it in me to crawl there, let alone walk. God, this is so embarrassing."  
  
"Brian," Frank shook his head, his tone part sympathetic and part a soft scold. "What's embarrassing, you idiot? Everybody gets sick. Don't try to be macho. Plus I'm your boyfriend, dipshit. If you can be a lump of helpless sick in front of anyone shame free, it's me."  
  
Brian had to relinquish a sigh in stubborn agreement. Maybe he was being an idiot, just a little. This was nothing to be embarrassed about. Not in front of Frank. So maybe it was time to accept that Synyster Gates, the practically immortal he, didn't have to put up a front of being invincible —at least with his boyfriend anyway. Brian still felt like a pathetic pile of shit letting germs or possibly some bad sushi reducing him to the mess he was, but at least now he was grateful Frank was there to help him.  
  
"Okay," Brian groaned out, forcing himself to slowly roll over on to his back, "I'm a fucking mess, help me."  
  
"That's what I'm here for." Frank half smiled. "First of all, is the need to spew your guts out still there?"  
  
"Nah. I'm nauseous, but there's nothing left to come out."  
  
"Alright, that's...goodish." Frank stood. "Let's just get you into bed then."  
  
And for both men it was easier said than done. Brian meekly extended his hand out to his boyfriend's proffered one, and Frank struggled to tug the larger man up. He went at it for a minute, soft grunts falling past Frank's lips as he strained to get more than just Brian's shoulder up off the floor.  
  
"Okay," Frank paused his efforts, "I know if our roles were reversed here you would just pick me up and carry my dead weight over, but I kinda need some effort on your end. This is like dealing with a beached baby whale."  
  
"Whale? Fuck you," Brian narrowed his tired eyes. "You calling me fat?"  
  
"No! Just...awkwardly larger. I mean, I said a _baby_ one, didn't I?" Frank innocently defended. "Come on, just help me help you here this time. On the count of three..."  
  
The second attempt went far better, even if Brian getting successfully up on his feet made him feel like the room was spinning. At least he had Frank to lean on this time with this bout of dizziness hitting him. It was a slow, miserable shuffle toward the bed, using Frank like a crutch; but it was like a taste of heaven when Brian's head hit the pillow, his body laid out on the soft mattress. Yes, a vast improvement over the floor. Brian closed his eyes and sighed in relief. He definitely still felt like shit, but at least now he was comfortable. He kept his eyes closed, wanting slip into unconsciousness and sleep for days —at least for however long this sickness lasted. Falling asleep was being disrupted, however, but Brian could only halfheartedly mentally complain because the cause of the constant disruptions was Frank amazingly playing the part of the dutiful doting boyfriend. Checking Brian's temperature, getting him medicine, making him drink a shit ton of water. Brian didn't know how he would be surviving this assault on his health if Frank hadn't come back home early. Most likely slowly dying on the bathroom floor.  
  
Brian felt Frank climb into bed next to him, and then the wonderful feel of cool cloth being gently dabbed over his forehead.  
  
"So," Frank drawled as he continued to battle Brian's fever with a wet washcloth, now moving it down the man's neck. "Exorcist level vomiting, huh?"  
  
Brian was able to let out a small chuckle at the comment. "Dude, you don't even know. If I hadn't made it to the toilet it sure as fuck would have flown across the room."  
  
"Bitchin', but I definitely have you beat on the worse vomit experience. So there was this one time I got food poisoning and I was throwing up so hard, right, it was coming out of my nose too. And like, I couldn't fucking stop. I just kept puking and puking with no let up, and remember this shit's coming out of my mouth AND nose so I couldn't fucking breathe, and like, I REALLY needed to breathe. So I was there at the toilet thinking: 'Is this how I'm gonna die? This is how I'm gonna die. Mom and Dad are gonna find me in the morning on the bathroom floor in a puddle of vomit. Fuck.' I mean, obviously spoiler I didn't die, but still I win."  
  
Brian chuckled a little harder this time. He opened his eyes to see Frank smiling cheekily down at him. "You're fucking insane," Brian spoke lovingly. "Only you would make the conversation about a vomit competition with a person who has a case of the pukes. And fuck, only you could manage to make it actually comforting."  
  
"I'm pretty awesome," Frank smiled more. He kissed Brian's warm forehead before resting the cool cloth there, and then moving to lay cuddled up beside his boyfriend. "You feeling any better? You already don't feel as hot."  
  
"I little a guess. But you should probably get outta here. I don't wanna chance getting you sick too anymore than we already have."  
  
"I'm not worried about germs," Frank spoke, reaching up to comb his fingers through Brian's hair. "Besides my fate is already sealed if this is some contagious shit. I don't know if you remember that little makeout session before I left earlier, but yeah..."  
  
Brian closed his eyes again. He felt guilty in the possibility of getting his boyfriend sick, but was truly grateful Frank was staying there beside him. The small loving and comforting action of Frank's fingers lightly moving through his hair was almost making Brian forget he was sick.  
  
"I promise I'll take care of you," Brian murmured.  
  
"I know."  
  
Brian could hear the small smile in Frank's soft response, and it made a small smile of his own curl at his lips.  
  
"Get some sleep, Bri." Frank continued to speak softly.  
  
Brian hummed a short lazy affirmative. Frank's gentle order wouldn't be difficult to comply with. The need for sleep was calling even harder, and Brian was slipping. He tried to hang on just a little longer though. Just basking in the feel of Frank's fingers still running through his hair, of Frank taking care of him. Maybe being the "weak one" wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
